


Multishipping Week

by PlayingChello



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Asexuality, Blind Date, Cuddling, Demiromanticism, Demisexuality, Drinking, Embarrassment, F/F, F/M, I'll add tags as they become necessary, Light Bondage, Mentions of Rape, Multishipping Week, Nervousness, Panic Attack, Parties, Safe Sane and Consensual, Smut, aromanicism, fear of thunder, mention of vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/pseuds/PlayingChello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 104th and Survey Corp members deserve to be happy, or at least not barraged by titan attacks all the time. This is a collection of drabbles/oneshots for Multishipping Week. Prompts are <a href="http://playingchello.tumblr.com/post/112625779060/hatefreesnk-multishipping-week-a-week-to">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cuddling (Springles)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Cuddling (Springles)  
> Connie has a hidden fear.
> 
>  
> 
> cw: fear of thunder, panic attacks

He has one hour before Sasha would be coming over to watch some horror movie she’d managed to convince him was a good idea. One hour of being very _very_ alone during one of the worst storms this summer.

And the thunder was practically shaking his apartment.

Connie has had this fear since he was a small child, irrational though it may be, of thunder. It probably has to do with that one time when he was five or six and he got stuck outside while a thunderstorm rolled in. He was wet, cold, and alone. It terrified him and from then on he couldn’t handle the sound of thunder. The patter of rain on his window was sometimes even enough to send him into a blanket pile in his room, not to come out until the sky was clear again.

He had seen the weather forecast the day before, looked at the little icon indicating scattered thunderstorms, and put on a brave face in front of Sasha. He didn’t want her to know how scared he was, how the thunder sent him into a near panic. He just wanted to make her happy, watch some dumb movie and hear her laugh at the atrocious fake blood.

The weather forecast hadn’t predicted such heavy rain, gale force winds, or the _loud and very frequent_ near earth-shattering thunder. And Connie is already struggling to keep it together. He’d already spent twenty minutes going back and forth on whether or not to cancel their date. But Sasha is so good to him, and their relationship so new, he couldn’t cancel with some half-assed lie, couldn’t bear the thought of how her lips would turn down and she’d just look _so_ disappointed.

So he’s trying to do everything he can to block out the sound of the thunder, the rain pounding against the windows and the pavement outside. He’s vacuumed the entire apartment three times, blasted whatever kind of music he could think of as loud as he dared without riling up his temperamental neighbours, cleaned every dish in the sink, and even ran what he could of his dance recital piece in the living room. And now he’s just about finished vacuuming for a fourth time when he looks at the clock, _forty more minutes._

A particularly loud and long rumble of thunder makes it through his distractions and he crumbles to the floor, grasping at the sides of his head, trying to block out the sound and _don’t panic, breathe_. He’s so focused on trying to even out his breathing that he doesn’t notice the knocking on the door, doesn’t hear the door open, and doesn’t know anyone else is in the apartment until he spots brown ballet flats on the floor in front of him.

His head snaps up and finds lovely toffee brown eyes looking at him with concern. But Sasha doesn’t comment on how he’s huddled in on himself, crouching on the floor. Instead she just cocks her head slightly, “I didn’t want the storm to make me late, so I came early. I hope that’s alright?”

Her tone turns up at the end, so it sounds like a question. And Connie just stares back at her with wide eyes for several long moments before nodding. Then he finds his voice and steels himself, putting on a mask of bravery, pretending the rain isn’t still sending little shivers up his spine, that the threat of another clap of thunder has his tense and on high alert. “Yeah, no, that’s great actually. H-how about you queue up the movie while I pop some popcorn?”

At the mention of snacks, Sasha perks up and stands, holding a hand out to him to help him up as well. “Alright! I brought some too, in case you run out.” He smiles at her, genuinely smiles, thunder forgotten for just a moment. She’s considerate, and passionate, and not in the slightest bit apologetic. And that’s what he loves about her.

She turns away to mess with his bluray player while he goes to the kitchen to find a bowl and pop the popcorn. _Maybe it’ll be alright while Sasha is here, maybe she’ll make it easier._ He can feel his smile grow while he watches the popcorn pop in the microwave. Sasha seems to make everything better.

When the microwave beeps, he carefully opens the bag of popcorn to pour it into the bowl he’d found. Then he wears a big smile as he carries it toward the couch.

The sudden clap of thunder catches him unawares.

There’s popcorn everywhere and he doesn’t even hear the bowl hit the cheap linoleum. He’s crouched on the floor, arms wrapped around his legs, breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Somewhere at the edge of his mind, as if through water, he can hear his name being called, can feel pressure on his cheek. But his eyes are squeezed shut and he can’t _breathe_.

He has no idea how long it takes him to calm down enough to be able to start worrying about the fact that _now Sasha knows how pathetic I am._ But eventually, his hearing clears and his mind stops being so cloudy, he can feel the hand pressed gently to his face, the thumb stroking over his cheekbone. When he finally opens his eyes, all he can see is Sasha.

“Connie, are you okay?”

He feels a flash of anger, irrational and hot, and he can’t stop himself, “‘M fine.”

Her eyebrows draw together in a frown, “You are clearly not fine. Can you stand? Do you want me to leave?”

His hand shoots out and grips her arm painfully hard, “No!” She stares at him with wide eyes, “I mean, no. Don’t leave. Stay, please?”

She nods and offers her hand to help him up. He takes it gratefully, using her slightly as a crutch when he wobbles a bit on shaky legs. She leads him to his bedroom and sits him down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to get you a glass of water. Will you be okay?”

He nods, not even pretending anymore. She’ll come right back and then he can calm down. And she can tell him he’s being stupid and probably leave him. He drops his head in his hands and heaves a sigh, a bit broken from his still shaky breathing.

True to her word, Sasha returns with a glass of water moments later and sits down next to him on the bed while he drinks it.

“Are you afraid of thunder?” Her voice is tentative and quiet, like talking to a hurt, wild animal.

Connie sets his jaw and stares pointedly at the floor, “It’s stupid, I know. Go ahead and laugh.”

There’s a long silence and he isn’t entirely sure what that means. Then there is a feather light touch on his shoulder and Sasha takes a deep breath before speaking, “Connie, your fears aren’t stupid. Your feelings aren’t stupid. I’m not going to judge you for being afraid. Your feelings are valid and I’m not going to laugh at you. We all have fears and most of us aren’t proud of them. Me? I’m afraid of frogs. Terrified. The creep me out with their weird eyes and how they hop,” She starts making hand motions to demonstrate and Connie’s lips twitch when he looks at her animated display. She must catch that, because she breaks into a grin, “I’m not dating you because you’re some unattainably perfect image, you’re a dork and you make me laugh. So don’t worry. You don’t have to hide.”

For a long time he just sits there on the edge of the bed, frozen in shock while this wonderful, spirited, _perfect_ girl looks at him with an understanding smile. Then he breaks into a grin and tosses his arms around her shoulder, “You are literally the best things to ever happen to me, Sash.”

Her arms wind around his waist and squeeze, “You too, Con.” They stay like this for a while, just hold each other, then Sasha pulls away, “This storm is probably going to keep up overnight, and I don’t think a scary movie, dumb as it is, is the best idea tonight. What do you say we just lay down and cuddle?”

Connie’s lips turn up in a grateful smile, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

Sasha kisses his forehead and crawls up on the bed, pulling him up beside her.

This becomes a regular part of his thunderstorm routine.


	2. 1st Meeting (MobuHan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: 1st Meeting (MobuHan)  
> Hanji loves throwing parties and they get a little crazy
> 
> cw: drinking, mentions of vomit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are all more or less in the same universe, by the way. In fact, Sasha and Connie from day one are present at the party.

Hanji is absolutely well known for their parties.

They’ve been throwing wild parties since they were a freshman. Usually people would walk away throwing up, very drunk, oftentimes high, and more often than not everyone would wake up in odd positions all over their house. The parties get thrown for everything, celebrating breaks, big tests being over, people’s birthdays, anything really.

Levi gets grumpy every time, but ends up enjoying himself well enough. Erwin pays for the booze. Mike supplies and less than legal contraband. They come together to throw the best parties of ungergrads and grads in the whole university.

And this is the last one, because all four of them are graduating. So what better way to send themselves off with a big bang, the best party yet. Hanji has plans.

Plans that are more or less successful when their bathrooms are full of puking students, people are dancing on the coffee table, a couple undergrads are fighting over the music, and there is general chaos.

Hanji _loves_ it.

Not to be shown up, they down another shot, grab the microphone from the karaoke in the living room, and get up on the coffee table, commanding attention from the entire party.

They look around at the glassy, drunk faces looking at them, then their eyes fall on an unfamiliar face that looks not nearly drunk enough and also perfect for what they have planned.

They point right at him, “You!” His eyes widen in fear as people around him move to make a clearing and look to where Hanji is pointing. “You aren’t nearly drunk enough and I haven’t done anything stupid enough, so, BODY SHOTS!” A cacophonous cheering fills the room.

The guy looks terrified, but doesn’t balk, and that impresses Hanji enough that they smirk. Erwin appears behind them with a bottle of tequila, the salt grinder, and a bowl of lime wedges. Mike goes to retrieve Hanji’s chosen victim, leaning down to whisper in his ear, probably a reassurance that he can back out if he’s uncomfortable. By the way his jaw tightens and sets, he’s not backing down. Hanji admires that.

By the time Mike gets him up to the coffee table, through the crowd of observers, Hanji’s already laid out on the table, salt in a line from sternum to navel and shot glass precariously balanced on their belly button. Erwin’s just placing the lime in their mouth as the stranger kneels next to the table.

“You know how to do this?” Erwin asks, placing a finger to the shot glass to keep it from tipping when Hanji wiggles a bit.

The man nods and swallows hard before looking up to Hanji’s face. They wink at him in encouragement. He takes a deep breath and Hanji feels his tongue run down their abdomen. They wiggle slightly, but manage to keep still enough to keep the glass from spilling. They feel the glass lift and moments later the man’s face is in front of theirs and he leans down to take the lime.

The room breaks out in clapping when Hanji sits up and claps the man on the back. “So now that we’ve skipped all the intros and went straight to the licking, can I get you a drink? What’s your name?”

The guy frowns, “You’re going to kill yourself doing all this one day.”

Hanji laughs, “Probably! But I’m graduating tomorrow, so I’m hanging it up for these parties. Real world, here I come! I’m Hanji, by the way.” They hold out a hand with an expectant smile.

He takes it, “Moblit.”


	3. Embarrassment (YumiKuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Embarrassment (YumiKuri)  
> Ymir goes on a blind date
> 
> cw: Ymir is a raunchy bitch? At least enough I'm bumping the rating a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasha makes a cameo in her part-time job!

She is going to kill Reiner.

The last thing Ymir needs is help finding a date. She doesn’t even need a date. She can get all the pussy she wants, she just needs to find a girl she finds halfway attractive and it’s easy. Pick up line, show off her bike, smirk a little, she’s caught. She can get laid. She doesn’t need a _date_.

(Though she does sometimes get lonely at night, alone, no one to hold as she falls asleep.)

She made _one_ offhand comment about needing a girlfriend in order to go on shitty double dates with Reiner and Bert and Annie without feeling like a tagalong. It wasn’t even serious, she doesn’t care about going on stupid double dates. But Reiner _had_ to take it seriously, said he knows the _perfect_ girl, some chick he was head over heels for back in middle school or something. But she was a little bit _not into dick_. So he forced her to get all dressed up in this shitty pantsuit she hates and go to this fancy restaurant she thinks is overpriced and meet this girl she knows absolutely nothing about for a blind date.

At least she already knows she’s into eating pussy, that’s one less thing to worry about. Though, Ymir’s shown a couple girls more than once how great some lady loving can be.

And she’s getting cold standing out on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, so she may as well suck it up and go in. She gives her name to the hostess, some girl she recognises from school that she’s probably slept with, but she’s dating some short, bald guy now. _Can’t win them all over._ The hostess leads her through the maze of tables and finally stops.

And when Ymir looks up her heart stops.

Doesn’t skip a beat or any of that romantic bullshit. She’s not cut out for that.

But _damn_ , she’s _hot_.

And when she looks up to where Ymir is still standing next to the table and smiles with the force of the sun, maybe her heart _does_ skip a beat or two. But she won’t ever admit it. And no one will ever know.

The lovely girl sitting at the table stands (much shorter than Ymir, over a head shorter) and holds out her hand. When Ymir takes it, she goes up on her toes to plant a kiss to each of Ymir’s cheeks, “You must be Ymir, Reiner’s told me so much about you! I’m Historia.”

Ymir doesn’t really know what to say to that. She can feel her cheeks burning and her mind seems to be working about the speed of molasses. “He tell you I’m a master at eating pussy?” _Nailed it._ When the hostess, still standing next to the table, and Historia both stare at her blankly, she rewinds. _Fuck, no, what do I say?_

Then Historia laughs and it’s her turn to be stared at with wide, surprised eyes. And Ymir’s very _very_ red face. “Not exactly, but he did tell me you’re a ‘vulgar fucking bitch’.”

Hearing her swear does several things to Ymir. One, it shocks her and she almost lets her jaw drop. Two, it turns her on way more than she’d like to admit in the middle of a nice restaurant. Three, it makes her face break out into a wide smirking smile.

“Oh, well at least he didn’t tell you a dirty lie.”

And as they sit, Ymir can’t help thinking that maybe this date wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


	4. Trust (Ereri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Trust (Ereri)  
> Eren puts his trust in Levi despite his past
> 
> cw: smut, light bondage, mentions of rape, EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IS 100% CONSENSUAL THOUGH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I'm mean to Eren... again.
> 
> Hhhh, I'm not so sure about this one, sad because these boys are my otp and I write them all the time, but dlakhgals Idk, tell me what you think!

“Eren, we don’t have to do this. I will be _more than_ happy if we never do this.”

Eren is sitting on the bed, in only his boxers, looking right at Levi. "I'll admit I'm... Nervous. I don't want to have a flashback and hurt you or fuck things up. But I want to do this for you, _with_ you. I _trust_ you, Levi. More than anyone else."

Levi takes both of Eren's hands in his, let's him thumbs rub circles into the backs of them. “I do _not_ want to be the reason you have a flashback. I don’t want to put you in that situation.”

He watches Eren look at him with that loving way he does and then Eren leans forward, pecks his lips, “I know. But it’s you. I’ll be alright. I know you’ll stop if something happens, _I trust you._ So don’t worry so much. I want to.” He pushes his hands forward, further into Levi’s lap, wrists together.

Blue eyes stare into green for a long moment, evaluating, loving, caring. Levi’s so worried about Eren. Knows his past, is intimately familiar with the story of the rape he suffered only a year before they met. He’s done everything he can to be patient and never push Eren, especially sexually.

When they had been drinking together the last time, joking around, talking about anything and everything, Levi had let slip that he’s into light bondage, dabbled in bdsm in previous relationships. Didn’t even think about the implications of that announcement would have, intoxicated as he was. Didn’t realise Eren would remember the statement all too well, fret over it for days. He especially didn’t expect it to culminate in Eren’s approach, nervous but jaw set in determination, to ask him to tie him up.

Levi had been so shocked that he’d just agreed. They talked about it in detail, Levi explained safe words, what kinds of things he would expect, what Eren should expect. They talked about what they wanted from it. It wasn’t until Eren left, after agreeing to try it that weekend, that Levi really thought about what it meant. How his past made this _so much more_ than he had previously thought.

His apprehension built over the last several days and now that Eren is here, he can’t help but be concerned about the younger man. He’s been there when Eren had nightmares, flashbacks, when he gets uncomfortable if someone touches him for too long. He’s seen it all. Knows how bad it can be. And he’s always _always_ tried to be a refuge, and never the cause.

But here Eren is, putting himself in Levi’s hands. Giving all of his trust to him, offering his body, mind, and soul to him. It says so much more than any simple ‘I love you.’

He leans forward, capturing Eren in a passionate, but short kiss, before he grabs the silk ribbon laying next to them on the bed. He’s slow, deliberate, careful with his movements. Wraps the ribbon around Eren’s wrists gently. He watches Eren carefully the whole time, pays attention to any movement, the way he’s breathing, how his eyes track the ribbon. He expects discomfort, fear, uncertainty, and expects to stop immediately. But he finds wonder, curiosity, _lust_.

The yellow ribbon glides along his skin and the way it contrasts the dark tones sparks a fire in Levi. He ties a knot just under Eren’s wrists, secure and tight, but not painful and lets the long trail of leftover ribbon rest in his hands. “Good?”

Eren nods, then swallows thickly and chokes out, “G-green.” Levi smiles and leans forward to kiss his forehead.

“I can do more, only if you want,” he adds quickly when he sees the way Eren’s eyes widen.

But he surprises him, “ _Yes._ ” It’s a whisper, but it’s near desperate with want. Levi smirks and criss crosses the ribbon up Eren’s forearms until he runs out, tying a neat knot just below his elbows.

“How’s that feel? Comfortable?”

Eren flexes his fingers, bend his elbows and watches the way the ribbon digs ever so slightly into his skin, “Yeah. It’s… It’s nice. Feels good.” He looks up at Levi with a big grin, clearly happy and comfortable, no traces of fear.

Reassured, Levi takes Eren’s bound arms and pushes them over his head and he moves over him, pushing him down onto the mattress. And while Eren’s eyes widen in surprise, there is no fear or nervousness there, just unyielding trust.

He’s quick to place kisses down Eren’s jaw, the side of his neck, over his collarbones, working his way slowly down his body. He’s careful to avoid the sides of his ribs, where he knows it makes him uncomfortable. That and the back of his neck are sure ways to put Eren back in a dark place of his past. Instead, Levi pays attention to his nipples, the dip of his hip, his fuzzy happy trail. He drags down Eren’s boxers to the tune of his long groan of pleasure.

The way his cock bounces once freed from the fabric, already hard and dripping, has Levi smirking. He runs his nails lightly up Eren’s thighs and leans in to lick at the head of his cock. He takes his time, taking him in and working him high, staring up at him as he moans and bucks, tries to reach down and finds himself bound. The first time, there is the barest flash of fear, and Levi immediately sits up and check in, but it’s gone as quick as it came, and after several kisses of reassurance, Levi returns to running his hands over planes of muscle while he tastes Eren and takes him deep down, feeling the head of his cock against the back of his throat.

It’s ecstasy, the way Eren screams when he comes, barely managing a warning before Levi sucks one last time and swallows down everything Eren gives him.

When he pulls off, he immediately goes to lie next to Eren, bringing his hands down and untying them with soft kisses all over his face, anywhere he can reach. “You were so good for me, Eren. Thank you, love. You’re so beautiful.”

He smiles at Eren’s happy, sated sigh.


	5. Reunion (Eruri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Reunion (Eruri)  
> Erwin comes back from an Afghanistan tour
> 
> cw: talking about war wounds I guess?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm absolute trash and don't ship either of the pairings for today romantically and also wanted to keep everything in the same universe and it's impossible to do days 4,5, and 6 without some kind of crossover, SO I wrote a platonic eruri, because Levi and Erwin and big old best friends is my favourite thing.
> 
> Also this is crazy short, which is also due to my home in a dumpster. I am trash, I apologise.

There are many scenarios that run through Levi’s mind as he pulls up outside of the house Mike and Erwin had bought together when they graduated. He expects gore, sullen features, depression, sleepless eyes, each new thing he comes up with worse than the last. It’s been more than two years since he’d seen his best friend, since Erwin had gone off for a tour in Afghanistan. It had been a surprise to nearly everyone that, after earning a master’s degree in business administration, Erwin had gone strain to an Army recruitment center rather than find a cushy office job.

Mike had known, of course. It had caused some strain in their relationship. But Erwin’s last few weeks on US soil found them unable to be separated. Levi hadn’t been terribly surprised by the turn of events either. Eren had always had a hero complex.

It was supposed to be a five year tour. And Erwin was _supposed_ to be more or less safe, administrating rather than on the front lines. But, again, Levi could only sigh knowingly after hearing he’d been injured trying to save members of his squadron. Just over two years into his tour, he’d already been sent home because of injury, purple heart in hand.

Levi figures he’ll be upset about that. He’s nervous about this reunion, concerned his friend will be changed, unrecognisable. He thinks about what it’ll mean if Erwin is different, if it’ll keep them from remaining friends, as he approaches the plain wood door of the house. He knocks quickly, a betrayal of his fraying nerves.

It’s Erwin that opens the door, of course, as he’d been expecting Levi. Levi appraises him. He looks different. Older, much older than a mere two years should have added, but he supposes war will do that to a person. His hair is different, gone the carefully styled part, replaced by something a bit more shaggy and grown out, less kept. But he doesn’t look underfed or sallow, just cut, conditioned. Harder.

And there’s the missing arm, a clean white bandage wrapped just below his right shoulder. Levi can’t help his gaze lingering there longer than he guesses is polite.

But then Erwin fixes him with a brilliant, warm smile, and it’s the same man Levi graduated with more than two years ago.

“It’s good to see you, Levi.” And the taller man pulls him into a tight, single-armed embrace, and Levi thinks everything will be alright.


	6. Nervousness (Erumike)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Nervousness (Erumike)  
> Mike learns a lot about himself
> 
> cw: um there's nothing to really warn about I don't think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place several years before everything else from this week so far.

Mike had always thought he never really had any interest in sex or relationships or anything. All through high school he suffered fielding awkward questions about when he would get a girlfriend and comments about how all boys that age are just complete obsessed with sex. He didn’t get it. It’s not that it repulsed him, per say, he just wasn’t interested.

Right before he graduated high school, he heard the word ‘asexual’ for the first time. He didn’t really know much about sexual orientations, but when he looked the word up, he figured it fit as well as anything else. So he went with it. And it because his default to say, to tell people if they started to get too close or make passes.

In college he met Erwin Smith.

They had a gen ed class together in their first year. And they did stupid introductions the first day and one of the things Mike had put on his list of facts was ‘I’m asexual.’ He doesn’t even know why he felt the need to announce it, but it seemed easier to get it out of the way. He thought Erwin was cool, could be a friend. Might as well get over the tough stuff initially.

And Erwin took it all in stride, nodded his understanding and smiled big and it was fine. They became fast friends.

And sometime late in their sophomore year, something happened.

Mike started catching himself lingering around Erwin, his gaze traversing him just a fraction too long. He craved moments when he could subtly drag out physical contact.

He masturbated for the first time other than one curious ‘see what it’s all about’ time in middle school. He wouldn’t admit to anyone the images that got him to climax.

For weeks after that, he felt dirty, wrong. Like something wasn’t right with him. He didn’t face the whole sexual awakening thing in middle school or high school like everyone else he knew. He’d always thought he just wasn’t into it. Didn’t care. So all of these messy feelings and urges were such a shock and scared him.

It took him months to come to terms with his feelings. Even longer to realise that it wasn’t just sexual, but he actually _cared_. It was more than messy nights alone with his hand and mental images of a dear friend. It was a craving to be near him, with him, just enjoying his presence.

Mike had never been in love, but he figured this might be what it felt like.

It’s a pretty simple day, near the end of term. Erwin had invited Mike over to his and Levi’s dorm to study for their finals. It’s been a long day of reading and quizzing each other, but now they’re all taking a break with some well deserved pizza.

Erwin glances over to Levi and they have some weird, silent conversation before Erwin turns to Mike, “It’s getting kind of late, you can stay the night here if you’d like? You can take my bed, I’ll stay on the couch.”

Mike freezes and he tries to keep his eyes from widening in his sudden panic, but before he can make any kind of response, Levi adds in, “He can take my bed, I’m going to stay with a friend for the weekend.”

This time, Mike can’t help the way his body shivers and breaks out in a cold sweat. It’s not like this is an uncommon thing for them, Mike and Erwin have stayed the night at each other’s dorms time and time again. But not since Mike realised his feelings, not since the man sitting across from him with an expectant smile had invaded his dreams and fantasies.

Still, he managed to choke out a, “Sure.”

Erwin smiles, and it makes something in Mike’s chest feel fluttery and strange. And they go back to eating their pizza like nothing happened. Except Mike can’t stop thinking about the fact that he would be spending the night, alone, with the object of his newfound libido. He starts picking at the skin on his nails while they cue up a stress relief comedy show on Netflix.

About three episodes in, Levi leaves. Suddenly, every one of Mike’s senses is heightened. He feels like he can hear every brush of fabric when Erwin shifts. The ticking clock on the wall sounds like a deafening pounding in his skull, reverberating in his brain and driving him mad with apprehension. He doesn’t remember how to act around Erwin when they’re alone. Doesn’t remember what to say or do, how close is too close between friends.

“Mike?”

Erwin’s voice breaks through his building panic and he notices that the television is paused and Erwin is looking at him with these eyes that pour out friendly concern. And… something else that Mike can’t quite place.

“Hmm? What?” he asks, too quickly to be natural, but there’s no taking it back now.

“I…” Erwin look at the carpet in front of where he’s sitting on the floor leaned up against the couch, then sets his jaw and looks back over at Mike. “I have something to say. I… I know you’re asexual… and you neve-”

“I don’t think I’m asexual.”

He blurts it out without thinking, nerves on high translating to loosening his tongue a lot more than he had intended. And Erwin just stares at him, wide eyed and confused. And then, slowly, ever so slowly, his lips turn up and before Mike knows it, he’s wearing a wide grin.

“What makes you say that?” He asks, patiently waiting for an answer behind his earsplitting smile.

“I-” Mike stops, not willing to take any more unintentional plunges tonight. Not ready to explain that for the first time, he is having feelings of sexual, and romantic, desire. Especially not ready to explain for _whom_ those feelings are.

When Erwin realises Mike isn’t going to continue, his smile drops some, but his lips are still upturned and he’s still focused on Mike. “Well, that makes this a little easier then.” He takes a deep breath and searches Mike’s eyes for a moment before continuing, “I like you. A lot.”

It takes several long moments of blank blinking before the words start to seep into Mike’s brain, start to swirl around and align themselves so that he can understand them, absorb them, _savour_ them.

And then he does something he’s never done before.

Nerves forgotten, panic left in the dust, Mike leans his body toward Erwin and he presses their lips together.


	7. Fighting (Jeanmarco)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Fighting (Jeanmarco)  
> Jean has a bit of a crush
> 
> cw: fighting, obviously? And that's about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys sooooo much for reading. This week has been a blast and I loved writing all the prompts for it!
> 
> I have a [tumblr](http://playingchello.tumblr.com).

Jean has found it much easier to talk to Eren ever since he started dating that TA over the summer. Before that, Jean was pretty sure he’d lost one of this best friends. And even if they may clash a lot and tease one another mercilessly, Jean really cares about Eren, so he was really happy when he started returning to his old self again.

Plus, that means Jean has someone halfway interested to convince to come with him to watch the boxing match in town.

He’s a bit harder to convince than Jean had hoped, but once he agrees that Levi can come, too, he relents. But then Eren asks the question he had been desperately hoping to avoid.

“Why do you want to go to a boxing match?”

Jean can feel his cheeks heat, knows they paint scarlet. His brow pulls tight and his hands form fists at his sides, fingers digging into his palms. He debates coming up with some excuse, some paper thin lie about how much he suddenly loves boxing. How he’d discovered the ‘true masculinity’ of the sport. But then he pictures the was Eren would look at him, some self-satisfied smirk, and how much worse it would be when he _did_ find out, ammunition for teasing for the foreseeable future.

So he tells the truth.

“Marco Bodt.” The name flows easily from his lips, even through the nerves at revealing his true intentions.

Eren cocks his head with a raised eyebrow, “Didn’t he graduate from here last year?”

Jean sighs his resignation and nods.

“And he’s going to be at this boxing match?”

He huffs and looks at Eren like he’s extremely daft before schooling his expression with some effort, “He’s going to be _in_ the boxing match. He’s fighting.”

Jean expects derisive laughter, a snort of condescension, endless teasing. But all he gets is wide eyes and an understanding nod. “Are you going to talk to him after the match?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s the one that told me about it, asked me to come. Least I can do is say hi afterwards. Congratulate him if he wins.”

Eren looks deep in thought for a moment, “You should invite him out afterwards. Levi and I can come if you want, or we don’t have to. Up to you.”

Jean’s eyes widen in surprise before quickly narrowing in suspicion, “Why are you being so helpful?”

“Jean,” Eren says with a knowing, sympathetic look, “The last person you had the hots for was my sister back in freshman year of high school. Everyone deserves a shot at finding someone.” His expression falls wistful, clearly lost in some memory. Then he shakes his head and pats Jean’s shoulder, “Let us know either way. We’ll see you Saturday.”

A little dazed, Jean watches him walk away. “Yeah. Saturday.”

\--

The arena is a tiny place, just a regular gym with a boxing ring set up in the middle of a floor that looks like it’s usually meant for yoga classes or something of the sort. Jean walks with a false air of self-satisfaction, hands in his pocket and cocky smile on his face. Eren and Levi follow behind, hand in hand, and are generally quiet, letting Jean lead the way. They set themselves up near the front of the surprisingly large crowd so they have a clear view of everything about to go down in the ring.

There’s loud cheering when the competitors come out. First out is this fairly average sized blonde guy with sideburns that could rival Honest Abe’s. While not terribly large, he’s definitely built and Jean has no doubts he would kick his ass if he ever got into it with him. There’s some cheering as he waves to the crowd and his name, Thomas Wagner, is announced. When the applause dies down, he goes to his corner and starts warming up.

Then everyone’s attention turns to the other competitor. Jean nearly swoons right there. Marco is solidly built, a bit bigger than the Thomas guy he’s up against. He’s wearing a pair of regular gym shorts and his hands are wrapped. But what really draws Jean’s attention, and apparently the rest of the audience as well, is the bright, _happy_ smile Marco throws while he waves to the audience while the announcer introduces him. Jean can’t look away, tracks his every movement. He notices the way Marco’s skin moves over his muscles as he walks, the way his stomach flexes when he bends to get into the ring, the little droplets of sweat at his temples from some pre-match warmup.

He’s so busy watching Marco that the bell ringing to signify the beginning of the match makes him jump. He glances over at Eren, who’s looking at him strangely but doesn’t comment. For which he is grateful. This is hard enough without Eren’s relentless teasing.

The match is surprisingly quick, but absolutely engrossing to watch. Of course, Jean is far less concerned with the fight itself than he is with one of the participants. Watching Marco move is absolutely _stunning_. He’s fast, smart, and strong. He hits quick and hard and is out of the way before Thomas has time to fight back. Thomas moves much more slowly, though he has a bit more muscle behind his hits and can pack a mean punch if it connects.

By the time it’s over, both participants pouring sweat over the mat of the ring, Jean isn’t really sure who won. But he really doesn’t care that much. Then the crowd bursts into raucous cheering as the referee holds up Marco’s arm in the air and Jean can’t help the smile that stretches his lips near to tearing.

It takes him a long time to find Marco after the match, between waiting for him to shower and cool down, Jean making his way through the crowd, and managing to get lost at least once. But finally, he bumps into him in a hallway of the gym.

“Jean! You came!”

Jean runs his right hand through his hair and scratches at the back of his neck, “Yeah, uh… good fight.”

Marco smiles brilliantly, “Thanks! It was tough, Thomas is a good opponent.”

“Looks to me like you had him pretty well sorted.”

He laughs and silence falls between them, and while Marco looks fairly comfortable, Jean feels like it’s the most awkward silence ever. He searches for something, anything, to say. Then he remembers what Eren had said.

“D’you- Do you want to grab something to eat? I mean, you’re probably hungry after all that. And I can pay, congratulations on the win…” He trails off, realising he’s rambling.

It doesn’t seem that Marco notices, though, because he just smiles that sweet smile that has Jean weak at the knees, and nods, “Sounds great! Let me just get my bag together. Meet you out front?”

Jean’s honestly shocked at how lucky he could be, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sounds good.”

He turns to leave but is stopped when Marco says something, “And, Jean? I’m really glad you came.”

He doesn’t turn around to face Marco, just stands there a moment with a dopey grin on his face. Maybe he has a shot at this.


End file.
